Happy Christmas
by JantoJones
Summary: Absolute and total sugary fluff, for which I do not apologise :-) Pure Janto.


Flopping down in the armchair, Ianto loosened his tie and glanced at the clock. 11:45 pm. Fifteen minutes until Christmas day. Half of him was looking forward to spending a peaceful day on his own. The other half, however, was wishing he'd asked Jack to spend Christmas with him. Feeling his eyelids becoming heavy, Ianto forced himself up. He had a quick shower before crawling into his welcoming bed. Ianto was so tired; he didn't even bother putting pyjamas on.

Eight hours later, he was jolted awake by loud noises from the living room. Grabbing his gun from the bedside cabinet as he leapt out of bed, the Welshman tiptoed from the bedroom. He peered out of the door and saw the cause of the noise.

"For Christ's sake Jack, I could've shot you!"

Jack span round from where he was trying to right the Christmas tree he had knocked over. A huge grin appeared on his face as he took in the sight of the naked man in front of him.

"Merry Christmas, Ianto."

Ianto looked down at himself, sighed and went back to the bedroom. He returned five minutes later wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. He smiled slightly at Jack's look of disappointment.

"Why have you broken into my flat on Christmas morning?"

"I didn't break in," Jack retorted. "I have a key. Besides, I had to bring you your Christmas present."

The Welshman couldn't help but grin at Jack's enthusiasm. He liked seeing the Captain like this. Jack carried so much on his shoulders he rarely got a chance to just live a normal life.

"Did you have to make so much noise doing it?"

"Sorry," apologised Jack. "My coat caught the tree. I was just going to leave the present and sneak out again."

"Well, since you're here, can I get you some breakfast?"

Jack sat at the breakfast bar and watched Ianto as he made omelette and coffee for the both of them. The Captain loved Ianto's omelettes. What that man could do with an egg bordered on the miraculous. He smiled warmly as the Welshman placed a plate in front of him before ploughing in like a starving man.

Ianto laughed. "You have to learn to slow down Jack. You're going to choke."

Jack shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time."

Once breakfast was done with, and the dishwasher loaded, Jack and Ianto snuggled together on the couch.

"Are you ready for your present now?" Jacks asked, after about fifteen minutes.

Without waiting for an answer, he stood up to retrieve the parcel he'd left on the coffee table earlier. Sitting back down, he handed it to his lover. Ianto immediately tore into the shiny red paper too reveal a plain cardboard box. Nestled within the box, Ianto found a leather bound journal.

"I know you already have a diary Ianto, but I want this one to be just about us."

Ianto gazed at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"One day you'll be gone. I won't just miss your face, or your body or your voice. I'll miss your words and I'll miss us. If you write a diary which is all about us, I won't just have to rely on my own memory. I'll have your thoughts and feelings to look back on too. And, I don't just want the good stuff in here. I want the arguments and the fights also. Will you do that for me?"

Ianto didn't trust himself to speak. His throat felt tight with emotion and he could feel the tears escaping his eyes. He looked at Jack and tried to smile.

"Oh, Ianto," the Captain said, sorrowfully. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Ianto shook his head. "I'm not upset," he managed to say eventually. "This is a wonderful idea. To know you'll still have me, even after I've gone. I love it."

He pulled Jack in for a gentle kiss.

"Thank you," he said softly, "Though it makes what I got you look a bit pathetic. Wait here."

Ianto disappeared into the bedroom once again and came back with a small, immaculately wrapped parcel. He handed it to Jack before retaking his seat beside him. The Captain carefully opened his present and found a gold watch chain inside. Instead of a fob at the end, Ianto had replaced it with a locket. The oval shaped object was about an inch long and was engraved with the words, 'For my J from your I xx'. Using his thumb nail, Jack prised the locket open and found two small photographs. One was of Ianto the other of himself.

"Wow, Ianto," he said hoarsely. "This is far from pathetic. Thank you."

Standing up, Jack held a hand out to Ianto. "Allow me to thank you properly."

He pulled the Welshman to his feet, and led him to the bedroom. Ianto Jones and Jack Harkness had a very happy Christmas.


End file.
